


Letter from Home, A

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-15
Updated: 2004-01-15
Packaged: 2019-05-30 22:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15106310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh. Donna. A letter from Dad. Answers the question "what's the deal with the hotel room" that Jaye kept bugging me about.





	Letter from Home, A

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**A Letter from Home**

**by:** spitzthecat  


**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Written:** April 20, 2002  
**Rating:** ADULT for language  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never gonna be mine. Anything you recognize from pop culture isn't mine either. If it was, would I still be this deep in debt? Really, if you want my crappy ass job, truck payment and two emotionally disturbed cats you're welcome to them.  
**Summary:** 12th in the Joshua Monologues Series. Josh. Donna. A letter from Dad. Answers the question "what's the deal with the hotel room" that Jaye kept bugging me about. 

* * *

Bill, bank statement, campaign mailer, junk mail, something addressed to me? That's odd.

Flipping through Josh's mail as I trudge up the stairs to his apartment, I stop on a pale blue envelope post-marked from Madison, Wisconsin. Turning it over, I see my parents' address scribbled on the back in Dad's handwriting.

It's been a month since they were here. Mom already sent us a very nice thank you card. Throwing the rest of the mail on the kitchen table, I carefully slice open the envelope.

It's one of those obnoxious Hallmark cards. A letter falls out when I open the card. Picking it off the floor, I unfold it.

>   
>  __
> 
> Donnatella:
> 
> Pardon the bluntness of this note, but imagine my surprise when I got my credit card bill the other day and there were no charges from the hotel on it. Thinking maybe there was some sort of mistake I called the hotel. A very polite young man informed me that no, there was not a mistake. That bill had been charged to a credit card belonging to one Joshua E. Lyman.
> 
> It was absolutely not necessary for Josh to pay for our hotel rooms while we were in Washington. Please let me know how much the bill was and I will send you a check.
> 
> Love, Dad.

Oh, Joshua, did you just stumble into an adder's nest with this one. Daddy abhors having people pay for things for him. I was surprised there weren't fights over dinner checks while they were here.

Thinking back on it, though, I was a little surprised when Josh suggested getting them suite at the Willard for their visit. My dad is an architect and my mom is an accountant, so my parents are financially comfortable, but the Willard is a little out of their price range.

I was even more surprised when Josh flat out told me to put them there. My main concern was that Dad would have a heart attack when he got the bill.

If I'd known what Josh was doing, I would have at least told my dad about it. So he wouldn't freak when the bill didn't come. Weighing my options, I decide on the chicken way out. I call Josh's cellphone.

"Bartlet For America. This is Tracey."

Before I can ask Tracey who the hell she is, I hear Josh in the background. "Hey, that's my personal phone. Give me that!"

"Josh Lyman," he sounds annoyed.

"Who is Tracey and why did she just answer your phone?" I ask sweetly.

"Donna? Just a second."

I hear him opening a door. "Everybody out. Right now!" Then I hear the door slam shut.

"Fucking volunteers," he grouses. "What's up, babe?"

"Not much. Where are you today?" I lost track of his travel schedule.

"Columbia, South Carolina until Friday. It's hot here."

"Air conditioning in the rental still out?" He and Bruno are driving around in a crappy rental car with no air conditioning.

"Yeah. How's my office?"

"Clean. I'm faxing you a bunch of stuff in the morning."

"I miss you." His voice drops to a whisper.

"Josh, I need you to do something for me."

He sighs. "What?"

"Call my father and explain to him why you felt the need to pay for the hotel suite while they were here."

"He's pissed?" Josh's voice flinches.

"That's an understatement. He wrote me a letter. You can start by explaining to me why you didn't tell me about it."

"I just wanted to. I thought they should be comfortable while they were here. Comfortable hotels are not cheap in D.C., Donna. You know that. I didn't think it was fair to put them someplace like that and then spring the bill on them." I can hear him squirming. "They were willing to give me a rate discount they wouldn't give your dad, but the bill had to go on my card."

I reach for his American Express bill. Coincidentally, it also came in the mail today. Pulling out the statement, I see what he's talking about. They gave him the suite for about 35% of what they had quoted me.

"Dad's going to want to pay you for this," I tell him. "But I'll call him and smooth things over."

"Thank you."

"Are you sleeping at all?"

"A couple hours a night."

"Food?"

"A fond memory."

"Eat, sleep. Do not make me come down there," I threaten. We have this conversation every night.

"I love you, Donnatella."

"I love you too, Joshua."

Hanging up with Josh, I dial my parents' number in Madison. Mom answers.

"Hey, Mom. Is Daddy home?"

"Donnatella. Your father is in quite a snit," she informs me.

"I kind of figured. Can I talk to him?" This conversation makes me feel like I'm 19 years old again, calling to tell them I'm dropping out of college.

It's a moment before I hear my dad's voice. "Donna."

"Hi, Daddy."

"How are you?"

"I'm okay. Josh is in South Carolina, so I'm a little lonely." Lonely enough to be sleeping at Josh's apartment so I can at least be surrounded by his stuff.

"I take it you got my letter." That's my dad. Straight to the point.

"I did. Dad, Josh was just trying to be..."

"I don't need your boyfriend paying for my hotel room, Donnatella." I think the word snit might be an understatement.

"Paul!" I can hear my mother in the background. "Don't be an ass."

"If you want to pay for the room, Dad, that's fine. We got a deal from the hotel, but the charges had to go on Josh's credit card. He forgot to tell me about it. That's all it was." I'm engaged to a politician, bending the absolute truth is something I've learned to do with the best of them.

"Oh." It also shuts my father up and makes him feel like a jackass. 

I know my dad is sensitive about money, but he's going to have to get over it. Especially when he finds out just how much money Josh has. Or will have after we get married. 

Josh explained the way his trust funds work after he proposed. It was quite a learning experience for me, since I didn't know he had any trust funds, much less a couple of multi-million dollar ones.

There are actually four, two from his grandfather and two from his dad. He took ownership of the first one when he turned twenty-one, it was worth about $100,000. After paying off his four years at Harvard and the three years at Yale Law, there enough left to buy a car. The second one, worth much more, was turned over on his 30th birthday. 

I'm not joking when I tell you that Joshua does not have to work. His grandfather left him his entire estate. 

Elijah Lyman was a diamond cutter in Warsaw before the war. When he sent his only child, Noah, to live with old family friends in America in 1938, he also transferred the bulk of his money to an American bank to keep it out of the hands of the Nazis.

Josh reinvested most of the money into blind trusts that he doesn't have access to. To keep the interest income off his annual financial statements, his accountant formed a very creative series of tax shelters and charitable donations. I think Josh might be bankrolling every battered woman's shelter in Connecticut and most of the ones here in D.C.

Only my fiancé would decide he needed to give up easy access to that kind of money to have a promising career in politics. I don't understand why he lives on the salary the government pays him.

The two trust funds established in his father's will are to be turned over when Josh gets married and on the birth of his first child. Our kids won't have to worry about paying for college.

Needless to say, my dad is going to have to learn to deal with it.

Next: "The Art of Air Conditioning"

"By weather I mean the interaction of natural forces; the effects of winter's cold and summer's heat..."

The Art of War - Sun Tzu


End file.
